


Three Supernatural Drabbles

by tabaqui



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Drabble Collection, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:02:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28297950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tabaqui/pseuds/tabaqui
Summary: Am moving this over from myScarecrow HorsesAO3.  Not sure why it was ever put up there - it deserves to be with the other Show fic!  Apologies to the people who kudo'ed and commented over there (though, really, there weren't *too* many. :D ).Written in 2011.  Possibly for a challenge, but I do not know.  Goes from silly to sad.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 13





	Three Supernatural Drabbles

**Author's Note:**

> Am moving this over from my [Scarecrow Horses](https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarecrow_horses) AO3. Not sure why it was ever put up there - it deserves to be with the other Show fic! Apologies to the people who kudo'ed and commented over there (though, really, there weren't *too* many. :D ).
> 
> Written in 2011. Possibly for a challenge, but I do not know. Goes from silly to sad.

.

.  
_Life is a Banquet_

Dean got home early, his cut hand curled in close, the front of his t-shirt still damp from dish water. Inside, he could hear the TV, someone talking in a kind of theatrical way, all fancy and slick.

 _What in hell...?_ His brother was the weirdest kid _ever_. "Honey, I'm home!"

"Dean!" Sam mashed the remote in his hand, flailing, and Dean laughed.

"What'cha watchin', Sammy? Naughty Nurses? Sinning Syndie?"

" _Nothing_! It's for school!" Sam squeaked.

"Sure, Sammy. School." Dean faked left – grabbed the remote and turned the TV back on.

_"How bleak was my puberty!"_

"Seriously, Sam? _Auntie Mame_?"

Sam's look went from wide-eyed to suspiciously squinty. "How did _you_ know?"

_Percy Lefroy Mapleton's Got Nothin' on Me_

He sees them sometimes. Stapled to boards in post offices and court houses, pinned to clipboards. Crumpled at the corners, toner-black gone grey in variegated stripes.

His ( _moms_ ) eyes, his ( _dads_ ) chin, in sketchy lines and cross hatching that make him look older, younger, thinner. Make him look tired to death, make him look mean. Make him look crazy.

When he sees them - if he sees them - he takes them down. Crumples them in his fist, crushing ( _mom, dad_ ) himself into a knot of wood pulp and ink. He's not bad - they just draw him that way.

_Falling Awake_

It hurts, but at a distance. As if she's dreaming. _Pleaseohplease_....

She breathes in, feeling the hard sear across her abdomen; feeling the rough, crumbling plaster of the ceiling behind her, tacky against her skin. She imagines cobwebs, husks of old moths.

Sam is walking slowly across the room, little smile, cookie crumbs on his shirt. Lying down with a weary sigh, and she can see mud on his boots, a new tear in the leg of his jeans.

 _Look up look up look up_....

 _Sam_ , she thinks, and the drop of her blood on his skin is like a ruby, shimmering.


End file.
